Around the Corner
by venomcakes
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is determined to make his last summer before college count. And he sure will because he finds an old antique store with the name Retrograde. The shop has a spooky feel and Alfred always feels like he's being watched. One night he meets the ghost behind it all with the name, "Arthur Kirkland." And this ghost is going to make Alfred's summer one of his most memorable.
1. Chapter 1: Priceless

June 22nd, 1992

It was a nice evening in Brooklyn; the cloudless sky was just setting, the robin's egg blue churning into a milky coral. All the kids in town were running around unimpeded, playing tag on their front lawns and drawing hopscotch courts till dusk, the fresh scents of freshly cut grass mixing into the abyss of night. Older minors lined the ballparks to play a late game of kickball with their friends, the floodlights casting pools of light on the bases. Everyone was enjoying the refreshing start of warm weather and brisk nights. Alfred Jones was one of those who were out and about basking in the arrival of summer. The worn soles of his sneakers dragged on the sidewalks into town, kicking up loose stones as he went, whistling timely to himself. To him, summer meant so much more. It meant slathering on Coppertone in the middle of the day, cranking up the a/c to full blast and the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. It meant staying up all night watching television programs, running at top speed through the neighbor's sprinklers, catching fireflies and watching them glow while smacking away mosquitoes. Summer also meant campfires, whispering scary stories at midnight, and stargazing while being sprawled out in the prickly grasses of your backyard. It meant _memory making._

Alfred loved summer. The blonde inhaled the scent of charcoal burning on a grill, smoke billowing into the clear horizons as he passed a fenced backyard. He could practically hear the hot dogs sizzling. A fresh scent of bug spray lingered through the trees, a cool breeze swept through Alfred's hair as he walked. He was eighteen years old, nineteen in just a week or two and recently out of high school. _Finally_, he was out of that prison. Now he could enjoy the finer things in life and leave all those terrible years behind. It actually felt good to wander about through the streets, the streets in which he grew up in, with just his thoughts to accompany him. The solitude was pleasant.

The teen's whistles were drowned out by the tune of an ice cream truck making its daily rounds in the neighborhood. The van slowly crawled along the pavement, the stickers stuck on the sidings and windows bright and colorful in the shadowy surroundings. Alfred waved to the driver, who tipped his hat, stopping the truck as children ran from around the block clasping crisp $1 bills in their hands. The kids crowded the van, all smiling and laughing, pushing each other to get their frozen desserts. Alfred could even admit he was tempted to go and buy an ice cream sandwich with all those appetizing ice cream pictures plastered all over the truck. One little girl pointed a finger at a fruity flavored icicle, hopping up to give the ice cream man her money. He happily complied and handed her the treat as she ripped off the packaging. The blonde teen smiled back to the girl as she looked over to him, eyes gleaming joyfully as she licked the popsicle and ran off back with her friends to play. They followed with a chorus of giggles, feet stamping across the concrete and soon they were gone, leaving behind crumpled ice pop wrappers to skitter softly across the ground.

Alfred headed past some clumps of overgrown bushes and looked to the smudged gray skies. Stars were sprinkled in the welkin, just barely being able to be seen. All throughout Alfred's life he wondered where the stars went when day came. Everyone would always say they never move and that nobody could see them during the daytime due to the sun. Alfred always believed they were just hiding. He breathed in the clear air as he directed his gaze back down to Earth. The orange flickering of the street lamps reflected in his eyes as his footsteps shuffled over the cracks in the sidewalks. He dug his hands into the dusty brown bomber jacket he wore; chin nestled into the dark furry collar. Its shiny signature star badge was clipped right over his heart. A single airplane patch was stitched on the right shoulder. The flight jacket meant a lot to the teen. He never went anywhere without it and was almost _always_ seen wearing it. The blonde held it near and dear to his heart, he cherished it. In Alfred's family the jacket was passed down to each generation starting with his great grandfather, then to his grandfather, then to his father. Now it was his. And he was supposed to hand it down to his kids one day. A long time ago this bomber jacket was his great grandfather's while he fought and worked with the military as a pilot in the Air Force. His grandfather was a hero; his bomber jacket symbolized a long line of heroes in his family. Alfred wanted to be a hero just like the rest of his family had been. It was his goal to help people and better the world. He didn't know how he would do that yet exactly, but Alfred was determined to find a way.

The town surrounded him now with large red brick buildings and small convenience stores. It was dark now with bright white stars glowing against the murky navy blue canvas of night, contrasting like little pieces of heaven. Alfred walked past a small restaurant with baskets of blue and pink daisies. Inside the restaurant he saw a few waiters counting up the earnings in the tip jar and laughing happily. One looked as if he were scrubbing a cherry stain on one of the glossy tables. The blonde waved to them from behind the glass, smiling as they did the same, the waiter looking up after cleaning the spot and waving his gloved hand which held a wet rag, also wearing an open smile.

The bomber jacketed teen then gazed back ahead and spotted a few local boys playing Hide and Go Seek. Two brown haired kids took off as another slumped back on one of lamp posts, hands flying to cover his face as he counted down loudly from twenty. Streams of light highlighted the boys firetruck red hair as he counted, waiting for his friends to hide with a big anticipating smile that traced his small face. Alfred grinned before running slyly to duck behind a nearby trashcan in the alleyway where the two boys disappeared. The American spotted them hiding right across from him, behind a few stacked bags of trash. Alfred just put a finger to his lips, uttering a soft 'shh' as they giggled. Everyone was always used to Alfred Jones' quirky childish behavior, it was like they were not surprised at all for him springing up in their game. "3… 2…1!" At that moment the older of the boys sprung from his hiding spot and darted towards the presumed 'base'; as fast as he could, rocketing towards the lamp post at full speed. The red haired kid's nose wrinkled in surprise and delight as Alfred sped past him, watching the older teen spin around with a cocky wink. A look of determination fired in his eyes as he began to chase the older blonde with his hand outstretched towards the '50' on the back of his bomber jacket. The blue eyed American stuck his tongue out at the boy racing behind him, and the boy or, 'it' aimed one right back with a toothy grin.

Alfred could hear the three boy's giggles and whoops of laughter as he reached the tall dark lamp post, reveling in the bright light it sent down upon them due to his glorified success. "You go Alfred!" "Sweet!" The blonde turned around to face the boys, whose faces were shining in admiration. He easily recognized them to be Little Bobby, Joesph, and Travers, all nine years old. Alfred would always stop by to play a few quick games with them, whether it was basketball, or just a speed round of zombie tag. "Thanks guys! That was a good round! Soon you'll be able to run twice as fast as I can!" He chuckled his usual chuckle and ruffled their heads cheerfully before positioning his hands on his hips, attempting to put a serious scowl on his face. "I've gotta go now, stay sharp! Make sure to get home safe- it's gettin' late!" He called, waving a teasing finger before turning around and continuing on his nightly walk. The bomber jacketed young man subconsciously heard their echoes of 'goodbyes' and 'see you's', along with the light tread of their sneakered feet running up the steps to their apartments as he rambled past a theater.

A red and white striped marquee was positioned right over the entrance with a painted white sign outlined with blinking bulbs showcasing the most recent movie in bold black letters. The American saluted the ticket man at the booth, and he did the same with a quick tip of his hat to the younger boy. And the blonde of course persisted on his walk, ears keening in on the sound of chattering emitting from an arcade, hearing the tinkling of change and the sound of joysticks bouncing through the air. Alfred took a deep breath of the night air and exhaled deeply as he walked in silence. He listened to the sounds of Brooklyn's nightlife with a content smile as he walked and occasionally kicked along a stone or two in his path.

Summer was really here, this was the start of one of his last summers before college next year. This summer he was going to try and find the perfect job to earn some cash for school next year. His last summer would be full of making plans, packing and setting himself up for his college campus, and then finally going to college itself. That was no true summer. Summer was a time of momentous occasion to spend time living to the fullest and having fun every second, moment you can. A true summer break shouldn't be full of meaningless worries. Alfred wondered what this summer had in store for him, hopefully something truly more special than he had ever encountered in any other summer before. To him, going to college meant finally growing up. Becoming a man. And leaving your childhood behind for good. Technically, these were his last summers as a kid, or one of his last before officially becoming a man. He had to make this summer count for that reason only. This summer was going to be special. Alfred could feel it. It had to be.

The blonde felt like he had been walking forever now and he snapped his head up in astonishment. He realized he had began turning corners of streets without recognizing the sudden change of atmosphere. '_Have I ever even been down this street before? I don't even think I've been to this part of town before," _the teen questioned himself as he looked to the street sign he had halted in front of, observing the white letters scrawled over the popping green background of the sign. "Littlegate Street," the blue eyed teen read aloud quietly as he looked around at his surroundings, eyebrow raised curiously.

Alfred then shrugged his shoulders and made a sharp turn around the corner, figuring that he had passed it all this time without ever thinking to explore the area, or taking any knowledge of it. There were crafting shops, a small bakery, even a few miniature candy stores, and a pizza parlor. Alfred peered into the brightly lit places with mild curiosity. The street lights lined the edge of the streets and the movement inside the buildings made the street come to life, with fluorescent colored signs of all colors, red, green, yellow, pink and blue… the gumball machines in the candy stores holding thousands of rainbow colored spheres, and the smell of newly topped pizza…

Though all these things caught Alfred's attention, as they were all amongst his favorite things (how could he say no to a few candy bars?), they did not do so as one shop he found at the end of all the rest.

It looked like it were to be found in a totally different time period. From where the blue eyed young man walked all by his lonesome in the masts of dark shadows casted by the large buildings he could notice how old the shack seemed. The small cracked shutters that aligned the sides and the large paned windows that sat in the front were smudged with traces of dust and dirt. The letters were chipping away on the sign that was bolted to the small store, the white letters seemed to be faded in the rain. The shearling jacketed boy walked ahead down the street as he approached the house, blue eyes twinkling with interest. Spindling cobwebs trailed all around the- what Alfred presumed, 'shop'.

It was painted a solid white. Dark ivy green curtains hung down, rumpled, behind the windows. Alfred could not see a _thing_ inside. The sidewalk was a bit torn up and broken around where the door lied, weeds and wild grasses sprouted out from all areas surrounding the house as if to keep the secrets inside hidden. Now Alfred halted in front of the small store and leaned forward to read the name clearly. "Retro… Retrograde." The blue eyed young man hummed happily as he observed the store, as if he were some kind of super secret investigator working to solve a mystery. How long had it been just sitting here? Was anyone running it? Is it still open? Alfred fixed his glasses as he furtively eyed the door. A red sign was placed on it reading 'OPEN'.

Anyone else would have just left then and there because… who'd want to scope out a creepy looking old building that looks like it's about to fall apart? But Alfred felt drawn to go inside, to see what this odd and uncanny old shed held. There was just… something about it. It wouldn't hurt checking it out, just for a bit would it?

The childish American furtively glanced behind him about twenty times before sneakily approaching the entrance to the store. After a moment or two of contemplation he lurched forward and grabbed the handle of the door, as if he tarried too long outside the suspicious shop. What if he was breaking in on someone's property? The blonde shook his head wearily at the thought. He hardly believed anyone could live in an old building like this. Alfred puffed up his chest like a true hero would before eyeing the buildings flanking him, aligning his shoulders and straightening his back as tall as he could. He imagined himself towering over the door, reminding himself there was absolutely nothing, nothing at all scary about an old shop like this that literally looked like it could have crawled right out of a time machine. '_Okay so maybe it is a bit scary, but it's nothing I can't handle!' _Alfred thought to himself as he shuffled his sneakers one last time on the pavement, the soles scratching as if to say, 'get a move on!' The blonde took a deep breath and fixed his glasses before turning the rattly old brass handle, easing the door open cautiously.

Light poured out onto the sidewalks where Alfred stood solid, shoulders rigid as he eyed the inside of "Retrograde".

Warm lights decorated the inside of the store, which was filled with shelves, bookcases and boxes full of all sorts of trinkets and souvenirs. There were old frayed baseball cards, little collectible sport cars, ancient dialphones with their springing cords strung everywhere, typewriters, Coca Cola signs found years ago, and all sorts of different china like tea cups and kettles. Alfred gaped as he stepped into the store and took in how lovely it looked. There was old robot toys, knitting needles, and spools of thread and ribbon of all the colors of the gumballs in the world. There were old coo-coo clocks, yoyos with all different patterns, tattered figurines of boats, and even an old record player with records piling in dusty cardboard boxes next to it. Alfred looked to the sparkling light bulbs strung like little fireflies on a wire, looking like tiny stars in this small antique shop. The blonde shifted his gaze in front of him and almost tripped over his own shoelaces. There was a confused looking man sitting at a desk at the back of the shop, hazy shoulder-length brown hair mussed. His grassy green eyes looked to Alfred questioningly and almost timidly before he stuttered out some kind of response.

"H-hello? May I help you, sir?" The storekeeper looked to be about his age, actually. The blonde suddenly took to notice how odd he must have looked standing there probably with his mouth open, just looking at all the collectibles and antiques. Nervously Alfred tripped a little over the small rug that was supposed to read _'Welcome,'_ though it was missing the 'o' and the 'e'. "Oh- Hi! My name's Alfred. Alfred F. Jones." The American laughed and rubbed the back of his neck after his embarrassing first impression before letting the squeaky door shut softly. The bomber jacketed teen walked over to the desk, mindful to not bump into any of the rickety shelves and kick over any stacked up boxes of relics. "I've certainly heard that name around before, Alfred. My name is Toris Laurinaitis." The green eyed teen replied with a small smile as the taller of the two approached the desk.

"Yeah, everyone around here knows my family. You've got a nice place here, Toris." The blonde chuckled as he gazed wondrously at the beautiful array of old movie posters stuck to the walls. It seemed like everyone around here remembered when he was just a baby, they knew things about him even _Alfred_ didn't know about himself. Like the day he first started to walk, or the day when he first was able to ride a trike, or the day he fell into a bees nest in the third grade and ran home crying. To anyone else, if everyone knew things like that it would have been embarrassing, though Alfred had grown used to the tight knit connections in the small town of Brooklyn. The Jones family had actually inhabited Brooklyn for years now. A lot of people in this small town in Brooklyn knew of the Jones family well, everyone knew everyone well. "Well it isn't really _my_ place. My father owns this store, he recently bought it for cheap. He loves antiquing and collecting all sorts of items, so he thought this store would be good to at least sell a bit of his finds. He also loved the original items the previous owner left behind, most of this stuff dates back more than seventy years ago. It was decided that I would run it some days during the summers, whenever we aren't travelling I suppose." Toris explained as he gestured to the store.

"I see. I don't think I've ever seen you around before, are you new here? Where do you guys travel to?" The blue eyed teen asked interestedly as he looked to the other teen in front of him, who had his hands folded neatly on his lap. "Well, yes my family is actually new to the area. We moved in about a month ago now, maybe a few weeks ago. We moved here from the city, since my family decided they liked this cozy neighborhood much better than the hectic life in New York City. My parents both love to travel too, so I have no idea where we might go this summer. Though we often do travel to Lithuania, where I grew up. We have a house there. I'm very excited." The long haired teen answered with a shy smile in return. Alfred nodded and propped his elbow on the checkout counter. Alfred sometimes wished he too would be able to travel to distant places. He dreamed of exploring through the Great Pyramids of Egypt… or going to Antarctica to go ice fishing, or perhaps tour Hawaii to go ride a dolphin! And visit the Canary Islands in Spain, or go on a gondola in Italy! Everyone always told him he was a dreamer. "Are you going off to college like I am?" "Yes, actually. In about a year, with the move I just need some time to prepare. I was home schooled so it'll be a big change."

The blonde grinned before looking around the shop, admiring the many arrays of glowing lava lamps all lined up in the corner of the shop. Strangely enough, he saw a few shadows crawl their way across the back corner of "Retrograde", passing just behind the lava lamps before they disappeared entirely. Alfred blinked a bit surprisedly. He knew for sure that wasn't his or Toris' shadow.

'_Maybe it was just a car outside that had caused the shadow_.' The blonde assured himself. But the streets of Brooklyn were completely empty while he had been occupying the crumbly sidewalks. There wouldn't be a car over here at this hour. Right?

The American stared for a moment at the lava lamps, shrugging as if to shake off his insistent worries and looking back to Toris, who looked up at him inquiringly with his viridian green eyes.

"Do you need any help finding something?" He asked then, voice kind, though a bit offbeat, probably because of his odd behaviors ever since he walked in the store's door. The blonde teen pushed up his glasses further onto his nose, standing up a bit taller as if to help recover from his faulty and shifty actions. "No, actually. I was wondering… do you need any help around here? I'd be glad to." Alfred asked upfront. The blonde almost surprised himself asking the question. He did so without a thought. But...

He _did_ need a job. And "Retrograde" seemed like the perfect place for him to work, he knew it was the perfect place for him. There was definitely _something_ about this place, though he couldn't put his finger on it. There was so much history in one building… with all these precious keepsakes and tokens of America's past. Alfred's eyes danced on the figurines of play camouflaged military soldiers positioned on the checkout counter, It was a breathtaking thing to see, and think about.

"Oh, you're really interested? Are you sure?" Alfred nodded up and down hopefully, looking like a child begging for an extra chocolate chip cookie even though he's had about eight already. The blue eyed American's stomach nearly grumbled at the thought of a fresh oven baked treat.

"I'm not so sure… I handle this place quite alright by my own, and I wouldn't want to trouble you, Alfred." The blonde gave him the best begging expression he could, jutting out his lower lip comically. "C'mon Tor, please?" The bomber jacketed teen held out the 'e' for emphasis. Toris frowned for a moment as he looked down to his desk before looking up at Alfred's pitiful display and gave in. "Oh fine. I was actually thinking of looking for someone to help me out around here. I'll be less lonely too, we don't get too many customers... but you are actually willing? This place is a bit of a wreck Alfred." The blonde didn't really look like the type of person who'd be interested in rearranging moldy old bottle caps from seventy years ago. Actually, nobody looked to be interested in that sort of job. "Of course!" The blue eyed teen answered positively with a confident grin as Toris smiled back a bit hesitantly but warmly. "Alright then. Let's shake on it." He proposed and held out a hand for the American to shake.

Alfred's blue eyes twinkled like the flickering light bulbs as he laid his hand in Toris' and firmly shook it.


	2. Chapter 2: Firecracker

June 30th, 1992

The blonde's hair furled backwards against the blowing wind, his locks of bright gold and lustrous-like pyrite. Alfred pedaled down Barbey Street on a warm cloudless day in New York. The chain of his bike clicked routinely as he fled down the streets, through intersections and boulevards. Alfred's bicycle was a popping cardinal red with black clad handlebars, tires and seat. He had it ever since he was fifteen. It sported a few nicks and scratches from the past few years, but to Alfred it was like it hadn't aged a day.

A chocolate Tootsie Pop stick jutted out of the American's mouth as he rode, enjoying the sugary flavor as he past house after house, listening to the sounds of wind chimes tinkling and clinking as he continued down each path. His bike mosied past an empty heath, singled off by a rusty chained fence. Pinky purple lupines were scattered around the patchy overgrown grassed field, their popping violet color contrasting against the yellowing grasses. Alfred breathed in the smell of the earth as it roasted under the suns hot rays, spotting a few dandelion seeds floating toward the horizon, twirling with the ever gentle pushes off the breeze. The blonde remembered how when he was younger he called them 'wishing buds'. Alfred smiled at the little recollection of memories as he pedaled and as he drove his bicycle around the corner of the street, he felt one of the feather like seeds brush against his cheek.

He balanced his bike frame with one hand and used his other to gently pick the little umbrella-like seed from his cheek. _'_

_I wish for this summer to be the best summer I ever had._'

He stated clearly in his mind before releasing his grip on the fragile being and blowing, gazing upwards happily as he watched it soar away.

Who knows where it was headed?

The light blue eyed teen cycled down Littlegate Street and screeched his bicycle's tires to a stop on the hot pavement right in front of "Retrograde". Alfred swung his leg around his trusty bicycle and shuffled toward the old shack of an antique store, hiding the red bike in a leafy shrub (just in case thieves were in the area) next to the building, in which a rusting ladder was leaning upon. Once he had stashed away his bicycle the blonde let out a satisfied sigh and rubbed his hands together before walking to the squeaky door of "Retrograde" and swinging it open.

"Hey there, Tor!" Alfred said in his loud boisterous tone, the old chipped door slowly falling shut as he made his grand entrance. The dark tawny brown teen sat in the back right corner of the store, covered in a pile of vintage cassette tapes, the film winding around his legs and twisting in every direction around his arms. "You are ten minutes late." The Lithuanian spoke sternly, despite the fact he was pitifully stuck in a jumbled cobweb of inky black film. "Aw, you missed me so much you counted every minute? I'm touched Tory." The cheerful American joked as he walked past the _'Welcome'_ mat and over to the distressed brunette.

"I told you to stop calling me Tor and Tory, Alfred," the older reminded with a microscopic roll of his green eyes. It had been about nine days since the over eager blue eyed teen had started to work for "Retrograde," and so far Alfred was a handful. "Do you want me to help you out of your tape-fiasco or not?" Toris stared up at the taller male, who stared right back. The two had a stare off until Toris blinked and gave in, sighing bitterly, "Oh fine just help me out of this, _please_?" Alfred grinned at his victory and pumped his fist happily. "Sure can do!" The bomber jacketed individual crouched by the mountain of cassette tapes and began to unravel the never ending ribbons of tape that wove his fingers together and around his calves. He was careful not to snap the delicate strips as he slipped them up and around Toris' head, collecting the VHS tape in bunches until the Lithuanian was free.

"There you go! Free as a bird." Alfred ducked to help the brunette pick up the multicolored discarded SONY cassette tapes and load them back into the box. "Ah, thank you Alfred. I was trying to get the box off the top shelf to organize through them but before I could stop it, the whole thing fell." The green eyed teen thanked him and scratched his head as the blonde spooled the crinkly tapes into the container. "It was all in my duty, Tor. Maybe if I got here in time I could have prevented so, though this was too funny to pass up _not _seeing." The blonde stood along with the storekeeper who crossed his arms with a darkening frown.

"Well, go ahead and laugh then."

"You know I was only joking!"

Toris fixed the collar of his formal white shirt and brushed off his jeans. He couldn't help but crack a smile at Alfred's pitiful look of 'please forgive me!'. "Alright, alright. I know you were only messing around." The Lithuanian gave a little cough. "_As usual."_

"Hey, watch it, you!"

The two worked together to pick up the moderately heavy shipping box and shoved it neatly onto the top shelf. Alfred rubbed his hands together nonchalantly as he followed Toris towards the counter, sitting on the edge of the marble topped fixture as the brown haired storekeeper took a seat on the spinning flimsy office chair behind it. "Well, to be frank if I found a shooter like you tied up in VHS tape I'd be hysterical." Toris laughed to himself as he pictured such an event, and his blonde companion stuck his tongue out at him with a pout. Most of "Retrograde" looked like it was thrown together randomly, just a mix of stray items meshed together into one tiny building. Maybe it was because no one really wanted to put in the effort of updating the store with more efficient supplies and furnishing, but even so Alfred admired "Retrograde" for what it was. A place of remembrance, reflecting… the blonde just felt like it was special. Completely different than any average 99 cent store or something. The blonde didn't know how to explain it, but whenever he opened that squeaky door to the antique store, he got this _feeling_.

Nothing like any feeling he's had before.

"So, now that I am here, is there any work to be done?" The bomber jacketed teen shifted as he swung his leg casually to look to the Lithuanian. "Not really, there hasn't been one customer all day. It's past lunchtime, so if you'd like I could run out to Checkers and get us something?" Alfred's head bobbed up and down faster than the collection of bobble heads seated next to the checkout counter. "Yeah! Can I get a burger, and an extra large Coca Cola? Ooh, and a large fry!" The green eyed teen laughed with a single nod.

"I got my allowance a few days ago for running the store, so I think we both deserve a treat."

"Woohoo! Thanks Tory!" Alfred yelled in his excitement, toppling over the counter and slinging his arms around the boy's shoulders messily in a big hug before losing his balance and falling straight over the counter. Toris let out a surprised gasp, the office chair rolling backwards in the commotion. About twenty toy soldiers along with a few blue pens collided with the hardwood floors around Alfred, along with a jar of butter scotches in which before was positioned nicely on the counter for customers to enjoy. "A-Alfred? Are you okay?"

The bomber jacketed teen face was smushed against the floor, only letting out a grunt and lifting his outstretched hand into a thumbs up. "Oh, thank goodness you are alright."

Alfred pushed himself off the dull hardwood floors and held his sore cheek with a pinched look. "Ouch, no worries I'm all good. Sorry about wiggin' you out there for a sec." Alfred went right back to laughing as per usual. Toris smiled warmly and helped the other to his feet, picking up the scattered soldiers and pens while Alfred unwrapped the shiny orange wrapper off one of the butter scotches and popped it in his mouth. Luckily he didn't break the jar. "Well since there's nothin' in particular you need me to do, maybe I could wash the windows. They have been getting dirty, over the years." The blue eyed American offered with a lopsided smile, mid afternoon light streaking across the floors in the unwell litten store.

Toris tossed a keyring with one single brass key stuck on it in Alfred's direction, observing the animated teen with amused look. Honestly Alfred took a bigger interest in "Retrograde" than he himself, probably even greater than his own father who had bought the place. Sure Alfred was no antiquer or collector but he had a general love for the history behind each item found here, not just because of the price of each item, generally because of the literal worth of each item here.

Toris thought back to something Alfred had said a few nights ago.

_They were sorting through the shelves, loading them with new pieces, the record player in the back spouting dixieland jazz. Alfred was sitting next to the shelf, flipping through an old kids book, it's pages yellowing with crayon marks rubbed all over the cover. The glassed teen had the children's book balanced on his lap, his knees pulled upwards towards himself, and his fingers traced the words of the book. "You know, everything here has it's own story. Even this book. It could have been a little girl or boys favorite bedtime story to ward away the monsters under their beds, and now it is in our hands. There is a myriad of possibilities of what could have happened to this book, though we'd never know it. Isn't it funny how this storybook tells a story, but not it's own?" The blonde ran a hand through his plush blonde locks, easing his shoulders to lay against the shelf full of countless knickknacks. "That is why we have to protect it, to keep its story from ending. To make sure it's story is not evanescent, and it is told time and time again." Alfred's eyes lit up like a network of streetlamps in the evening. The blonde now looked away from the book, his forever sunny expression forming into a full on grin. Toris looked down to him with the same lingering smile and nodded to him, listening to the song on the record player fade to an end._

Alfred caught the key, starry blue eyes looking to it before tucking it safely in the pocket of his bomber jacket. "That would be great Alfred, just try not to burn the place down while I'm gone, alright? I'll be back in about fifteen minutes."

The American watched as the brunette grabbed his leather wallet and headed for the door. "M'kay! This place is in safe hands, don't you forget it! And when did you ever get the assumption I would be capable of burning down a building?" "Well Alfred you did just belly flop over the counter, plus you have the mental stamina of a five year old. It doesn't take much for you to mess up, timewise or anythingwise." Alfred laughed and adjusted his glasses with a mock offended look. "Whatever, see you later!" Alfred called with a wave as he picked up an old rag from one of the shelves, whistling to himself as he dug around behind the counter to find a half full bottle of windex for his taking.

The blonde walked through the store, sidestepping a display of old comic books and other assorted books as he made his way towards the window. Alfred's footsteps padded softly on the floors, coming to a halt by the window where he pulled back the crumpled curtains. Spider webs hung down like balloon strings at a fair, a layer of grime covering the glass windows. The American squirted the area with the blue cleaner, the bottle making a sound similar to_ 'sprinst, sprinst, sprinst' _as he pulled the trigger. Alfred's hands moved in circular motions over the glass, watching the dirt and collected grime transfer onto the rag as he did.

Then he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, his muscles and limbs seem to freeze in place, his strokes slowing to a stop.

A new type of feeling filled him.

This one was even stronger than before.

He felt like something… or some_one_ was right behind him. Alfred's eyes went wide, knowing he _wanted_ to move, so he could heroically combat whatever had broken into the store, but then again he couldn't. It was like his body was glued in place- fear pelting through his body, making his heart stutter.

Plus, if anyone did break into "Retrograde", the American would hear it. The door basically sounded like a dying cat first of all, and second of all it was literally like two paces away from where he stood now.

Alfred's breath quickened. It literally felt like he was being _watched_. After a few moments of crushing silence, the blonde made a few jerky movements to turn around and finally confront his opponent… when the sound of the record player clicking and hissing filled the thick air.

The blue eyed teen spun around comically, windex container and rag in hand ready for battle, finding that he was alone. A smooth melody of jazz instead filled the uneasy silence along with Alfred's harsh breathing. '_How did the record player turn on? I was nowhere near it!' _The blonde whirled around in every direction to make sure there was no one hiding anywhere and even sprayed his bottle of windex in the air threateningly. Fear laced the young blue eyed teen's expression as he approached the eerie record player that played soft jazz, frowning as he lifted the needle up for the music to stop abruptly. The feeling of someone watching him never left.

July 4th, 1992

It was the 4th of July, and the entirety of New York was throwing a huge celebration. Today was the day to celebrate the United States of America's official independence from Great Britain. It was also the day to celebrate cowboys, apple pie, beer, baseball and Bugs Bunny. The roads were sectioned off with police tape for loud block parties each blasting loud pop music, red, yellow and blue bounce houses were packed full of little kids, everyone was lighting sparklers and throwing snap-it's at the ground, the sidewalks full of white flashes and crackling.

Flags of red, white and blue hung high at every house, cheeseburgers and hot dogs were being produced faster than anyone could eat. Alfred ran now through the streets, decked out with a glow in the dark patriotic necklace and another necklace strung with plastic silver stars. On his cheek there was a tiny yellow star, because, there was no shame in getting your face painted when you're nineteen. Yes. Nineteen. Today was Alfred's birthday. The blue eyed teen always loved his birthday. He was able to spend it while also celebrating his most favorite holiday. The 4th of July was always his favorite day of the year.

A huge grin was plastered on Alfred's face as he ran through the streets, a few people calling, "Happy Birthday Al!" "You've grown so much!" "You're almost all grown up Alfie!" The blue eyed teen looked up and saw an older man along with two middle aged women, instantly recognizing the familiar faces. The man owned a barber shop which he had always gone to since he was little, and the two women were sisters, one having a house just down the street from his. Alfred chose to not acknowledge the last two comments. "Thank you Mr. Connefrey, and have a good night Miss Jessica and Miss Anna!" The shearling furred bomber jacketed teen darted past.

Right now he was on a mission to "Retrograde." Apparently two days ago he carelessly left his wallet behind while on his shift. Now he needed it to go and buy more Firework ice pops for everybody back at his block. So far tonight the blonde had consumed five packets of watermelon Pop Rocks, two cans of Coca Cola, and one package of gummy worms. To say the least he would probably be up all night.

Alfred heard a startling '_BOOM'_ and looked upwards towards past Brooklyn's tall red bricked buildings to the pitch black sky. Light blue colors of light and fire exploded, red sparks shooting to the ground below. Alfred heard a chorus of 'oohs' erupt a street away. The brown bomber jacketed teen stuck his hands into his pockets, bright sea blue eyes staring towards the sky, counting off in his head until the next explosion. The glassed teen watched as a white streak of light twirled in the air, sounding like a whistling kettle until it stopped. A few seconds later another_ 'BOOM'_ sounded, making him go 'aah' along with another united group of onlookers. Fireworks popped in the distance, and firework pellets and red wrappers clogged the streets. Alfred smiled as another show went off, blinking at the beautiful array of colors in the sky. Purples, greens, pinks, and yellows. The blonde looked down to the star badge left on his bomber jacket and laid a hand over it, closing his eyes silently as he enjoyed the moment just standing in midst of the loud streets full of cheering citizens.

His birthday wish every year was to help someone. To be like his great grandfather. His grandfather. His father. To be a hero. To save lives. To be some anyone could look up to. More than anything to find his path in life, the one he was meant to find. It was practically time for him to start that journey, there wasn't much time to savor the remainder of his life as Brooklyn's science genius, fast food loving, thumb wrestling champion, football star. Life was not going to be as simple as it was now later on. It was almost time to become a man, the man he always dreamed of becoming.

Alfred then opened his eyes and squeezed through the thickening crowd, skidding around the corner and down Littlegate Street. The street was empty as usual, though it was also pitch dark as well. Everyone had closed up shop for the joyous holiday on the 4th. The bomber jacketed teen jogged down the sidewalk, his sneakers lightly crunching on the concrete, following his sense of direction towards the old antique store. His eyes soon adjusted enough to the dark to see the faded letters of "Retrograde" coming into view.

Ever since the incident with the record player and windex Alfred had developed a recognition of this weird feeling that filled his gut whenever he watched over the old shop. More odd circumstances followed two days later after that Tuesday. The next day Alfred had noticed that half the jar of butterscotches had disappeared. And, the American sweared on his the entirety of the Jones' family that he _did_ _not_ eat them that time. And Toris wasn't anywhere near "Retrograde" all day! Plus, he didn't even like butterscotches. One moment the jar was completely filled to the top and the next there was about only fifteen left in the whole glass container. And the following day, Alfred was sharing his shift with Toris when he had misplaced his glasses. Well the blue eyed teen was sure _he_ did not misplace him, but whatever or whoever was messing with him _did_. They were sitting neatly on one of the shelves, and right when he had turned around they disappeared in thin air. Where did they go? Toris swore he didn't take them. Eventually the blonde had found them. They were folded, hidden behind a display shelf of model trains. Alfred was confused, but unfazed in his journey as to what was up with the old antique shop, and even though he did not want to admit it, scared.

Was there someone plotting his death? A serial killer might be going around. Or it might be aliens. The blonde had always had believed in aliens ever since he was young. Maybe now they finally decided to show themselves.

But none of these things matched up perfectly with the strange events. What could have sneaked into the store, stolen a bunch of butterscotches, and left without Alfred noticing? Or what would have been able to turn on the record player or move his glasses without being found out? It was almost impossible. Maybe he was just imagining things after all.

The starry eyed teen heard the loud hissing and spitting of fireworks being fired up into the crisp July night air as he blindly found the entrance to "Retrograde." After retrieving the key Toris had given him Alfred jiggled the brass object into the door knob until it clicked sharply. The cowlick haired boy let the door slowly creak open before inching his way through the small door. The whole place was frosted in a chilly darkness that chilled the teen's bones. The bottom's of sneakers lightly stepped over the _'Welcome'_ mat and onto the hardwood floors, his footsteps the only sound that greeted his keening ears. He relied on the small amount of light came from his glow in the dark necklace to navigate the room. Once or twice Alfred bumped clumsily into a bookshelf or perhaps a stray box but eventually he felt around for the counter and found it. There he sightlessly let his fingers dance (rather clumsily) across the tabletop until he found the old shaded lamp that Toris had kept conveniently on the counter.

The American braced himself as he held a hand out toward the object, praying that no zombie, vampire or crook was behind him ready to kill. He pulled the chain to turn on the floral patterned lamp that looked like it would have been found on his grandmother's night table and found himself immediately surrounded in a pool of yellow light. Alfred let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding and let his pulse slow as he adjusted his glasses, searching for where his wallet might be. Alfred's eyes scanned over the entirety of the desk though he couldn't see his brown wallet embellished with a holographic sticker of a cute smiling whale (and yes, Alfred was not ashamed of that fact). The blonde began to get a bit frantic, knowing that one, everyone was waiting for him to get back for the party, and two he definitely did not want to stay here any longer than he had to. Especially since it was practically the middle of the night.

The bomber jacketed boy began pacing through the shelves, checking every nook and cranny he could, and even ransacked every drawer behind the counter. His wallet was nowhere to be found. Now he was looking through the bookshelves hurriedly, hands brushing along the spines, wishing that somehow his desired wallet would magically appear to him.

Though things just can't be that simple, can't they?

Alfred was about halfway down the aisle when he heard a book topple down from one of the top shelves, falling flat on it's cover with an unexpected smack.

Again he was met with that unbearable feeling and his breath fell short, his whole body going cold.

His mind was swimming in a sudden flummoxing fear as he wheeled around on the heel of his sneaker.

There, in the pale washed yellow light at the end of the aisle of bookshelves stood a figure.

The figure looked to be a of a man about a head shorter than he, with flaxen colored hair that framed his face, combed neatly in the back, though a bit more frazzled in the front. He had capturing dark minty green eyes and, namely, a very thick set of eyebrows above them. This stranger was clothed in a white club collared shirt with a black bowtie fitted around his neck, and over that a viridian tweed jacket that had black buttons buttoned up halfway. Along with that the figure also appeared to be sporting a mellow black pair of trousers along with polished ebony oxfords.

His clothing was surely not from this century at all.

Though there was something unnatural about the man. It was like he was almost a mist, or not completely solid, like a mix between being transparent and consistent.

Alfred's cotton candy blue eyes seemed to be grow as big as a flying saucers, all the words on his tongue stolen from him. Instead they were replaced with a scream. The blonde stumbled backwards towards the other end of the aisle and eventually fell in reverse, shouting as he fell painfully on his rear, in the process knocking a pile of books off from the wooden shelves. Alfred didn't waste any time in blinking open his panicked eyes, finding that the eerie figure was still stationed at the end of the hall. The rest of the aisle was bathed in darkness, all except where the stranger stood, next to the aged light of the lamp. The figure looked just as surprised and if he wasn't mistaken- _scared_ as he was. They both froze like that, for a few a minutes it seemed, though it felt like an eternity.

A deep frown then creased the individuals face and slowly he began to approach the bewildered American boy who sat at the end of the hall. The blonde squeezed his eyes shut, hands positioned behind him while his legs lay humorously sprawled. As the constant repetitive sounds of the man's footsteps neared Alfred's mind began to assume to worst of situations that would follow.

"Please don't eat my brains! I-I mean, suck my blood! I-I-I mean you have no business being here, you criminal! How dare you break into this store!"

The bomber jacketed teen finished confidently, eyelids flipping open angrily to reveal that the odd man was now leering down at him, hands at his hips.

"_You_ have no business being here, prick. I hardly think you have any brains first of all, and I'm sure your blood wouldn't taste fairly good as well. Considering all you eat is salty fries and greasy hamburgers."

The man had a very prominent British flair to his words. Suddenly the sugary Pop Rocks Alfred had earlier soured in the pit of his stomach. How would this man know that? Alfred gaped up at the jacketed offender in front of him, now noticing the finer details of the green eyed man's being. The teen noticed the unusual pallor or pale appearance of his skin, along with the odd almost glowy look to his manifestation. And that was when it all clicked.

The old clothing... the vagueness of his form... and everything that had been occurring in "Retrograde." Alfred _knew_ there was something odd about the creepy shop, it was what had drawn him here since the first moment he had laid eyes on "Retrograde."

_"GHOST!"_

The blonde cried, scrambling backwards once again and shakily stumbling to his feet. It made so much sense now. How come he didn't think of it earlier? The record player turning on mysteriously all by itself, the missing butterscotches, and his glasses being taken! And he must have heard he and Toris planning on getting their lunch the other day from Checkers, explaining how he was nagging him about his bad food choices! The ghostly figure faltered at Alfred's cry though he did not seem too surprised at his reaction. His green eyes trailed Alfred's as the teen stood, glasses astray on his nose.

"Well of course I am a ghost, what else could I be? You twit." The figure murmured in response, crossing his arms after he delivered his reply laced in hostility. Obviously, whoever this guy was, he loved to insult him as much as he could. The shearling bomber jacketed individual's lips moved to say something incoherent, though his heart was pounding so much he didn't know how to form any words back.

"W-what's your name?" Alfred looked uneasily toward the blonde standing a few feet in front of him, eyebrows lifting expectantly. After a long moment the ghost sighed almost pensively, nostalgically, as if he hadn't said his name for a long, long time.

"Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

The green jacketed man paused. "And I assume you are Alfred?"

Just like that the childish teen seemed to ease up a bit, a smile tugging at his features, though his eyes still shone warily. "Yup. The one and only Alfred F. Jones here," Alfred replied.

The ghost scowled, grumbling a curse under his nonexistent breath and unfolded his arms, dragging one hand through his misty like hair. "So I've learned. I've heard that name come up around here quite a lot over the years." Arthur muttered with another deep set frown as if he were thinking about something important. "Anyways, your wallet is over there, idiot. Next time try and keep track of it, yeah?" The cowlick haired boy's eyes followed Arthur's finger to a shelf in the corner of the store. Alfred could see that his wallet was perched right next to a set of teacups. "Oh, shoot! Well thank yo-," when Alfred turned back around, the ghost was gone.

The green eyed man was nowhere in sight.

Alfred stood there for a minute puzzledly, his heart still hammering steadily in his chest. The air was cold, still, but not as scary as before. Not nearly as suffocating. But still the American rushed to obtain his lost wallet and went to shut off the lamp, pulling the chain until he heard the satisfying click. With that he ran to the whining door, crystal blue eyes looking apprehensively ahead into the jet black shop as if he believed Arthur would appear out of nowhere again to insult him yet again. Realizing he was just staring into blank space Alfred stepped off the dirty _'Welcome'_ mat and shut "Retrograde's" door before running through Brooklyn's streets, probably faster than he had ever ran in his life.

Faster than when he had tried to fly by running and jumping off from the top of his stairs onto the couch, and faster than when he had crashed his father's station wagon into his family's garage. Fireworks still whizzed through the air, and people still laughed, cheered and chattered in the distance, but all Alfred could think about was the jacketed man. Arthur, Arthur Kirkland. He had met a ghost, _a real ghost_. His heart was still a reassuring mantra in his chest. The American boys eyes were wild, brimming with life as he ran through the red, white, and blue decorated streets.

He didn't know whether or not this was the best birthday ever or the worst.

At least he knew that he wasn't imagining things.

All he knew is that now, things were certainly going to change.

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**Hi there everyone! For anyone reading this, thank you for taking a look, I'd like to give you loads of hugs! And if you intend to follow to see what's in store for this story, I would love to give tons of hugs as well! "Around the Corner", is my first story/fanfiction on here, so I'm a bit new to the program and how everything rolls here, but I'm learning fast. This is also my first UsUk piece of work, so you all might have to bear with me with that too. Other than that, I'm putting my heart and soul into this story since it is my first, so I hope some of you all might enjoy ^w^!**

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_Wiggin' (to wig out)- to freak out_

_Shooter- a showoff_


	3. Chapter 3: Specter

July 9th, 1992

Alfred always had his head in the clouds. His imagination always ran free, there was no filter to what the blonde's mind could come up with. As a child he always had a new imaginary friend to tag along with him while they went on adventures. Their adventures were never all that big or exciting, at least that was how most people saw them. But to Alfred they were. A mere sandbox, if you used your imagination, could be a huge beach, or a deserted remote island. Perspective could be a tricky thing to grasp. Alfred's ingenuity had never faded even as he grew up. He still read every comic book he could get his hands on, and he still needed to sleep with a night light. Plus he pretty much loved hearing stories of anything fictional, fantasy like and paranormal (even if it scared him to wits end). Every day was almost like a dream turned into a reality. And, three days ago, one of his worst nightmares turned into a reality.

Okay, so, Alfred was afraid of ghosts.

Always had been, and most likely always will.

From his understanding they were creepy, unpredictable, and if you made them mad, they were sure to have your head.

At least that was what the movies told him.

Alfred always was comforted in the fact that there was no serious evidence of such a phenomenon- yet he did believe they existed, whether he liked it or not. Nonetheless he still always found himself shaking during ghost stories told in the early hours in the morning, and the slightest bump in the night drove him senseless. The very idea of an invisible person that could be watching you sleep, and could actually be _living, _or rather, be_ dead_ in your house scared the blonde to no end.

And now… he actually saw one with his own eyes. He talked to one, too! And it helped him find his wallet! But it also called him an idiot too, now that he recalled the frightening event. If the blue eyed American were to ever imagine his first encounter with a ghost, it certainly wouldn't have gone the way that it did. It go would go something like Alfred seeing a ghost in like a spooky haunted house and then screaming bloody murder before running in the other direction. Not meeting a ghost at an old antique shop and having it actually _help_ him. Whenever anyone pictured what a ghost would look like, they would picture with one of those generic floating blank white sheets, with two gaping black holes for eyes and a squiggly line for a mouth. But the ghost he met didn't look like that at all. It- _he_ had an actual face, a being, two legs and two arms. And he never went, "_Boo."_ He had a name. Arthur Kirkland. Alfred thought about that name ever since. Arthur didn't seem to be anything like the terrifying ghosts in those horror films he would freak himself out by watching either. Well maybe they _did_ have a bit of similarities, the blonde wasn't going to lie, he was scared out of his mind when he saw the other stand over him with that vexed look. But truthfully Arthur had not tried to harm him in any way, right? Maybe that indicated that he was actually a _good_ spirit, and not a bad one. Was there even such thing as a good or bad spirit anyway? Plus it seemed that when they first had met, Arthur looked as afraid of him as he was afraid of Arthur. That almost gave the spectacle wearing teen a bit of comfort in the situation. Though it wasn't nearly as much as he needed.

Alfred lay now on his bed, starry blue eyes trained on his ceiling as he lounged about, legs spilling over the ends and arms draped above his head. Posters were plastered along the walls relating to all different bands- such as the Beastie Boys, or the Red Hot Chilli Peppers and even Britney Spears. Comic books were strewn about, along with all different baseball bats and footballs, washed out cowboy themed curtains he got when he was eight still hung by the windows. _Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. _The teen turned his head to the side and gazed at a gray alien plushie left on his bed sheets. It had wide red orb like eyes and a body with two arms and two legs. It was his most favorite toy he had growing up, his alien plushie named Tony. Everyone in Alfred's family knew how special the item was to the energetic boy, Tony was always with him wherever he went, and he slept with it every night. Not that Alfred was willing to admit it, but he still did. Tony always made him feel better whenever he had something bothering him, no matter what it was. The starry blue eyed young man smiled on impact and took the plushie in his hands, lifting it up before him as he laid down on his bed. "Hi Tony." The alien plushie stared down at him unblinkingly, but Alfred only took that as word to continue. "Remember how I would always tell everyone how ghosts were real? Guess what- I actually _met_ one. I _talked_ to one. Aren't I brave?" He paused and wiggled the alien's little hand, as if it was waving off his news in disbelief. "I'm not kiddin'! It was a young guy- he kinda looked around my age, maybe a bit older? His name is Arthur- or _was_ anyway," the teen laughed uneasily with a pause before hugging the plushie to his chest as he wistfully peered up to the painted ceiling of his bedroom.

It had been five days since his birthday. 4th of July. The incident. And in fact, he had not encountered the green eyed ghost since then. He had gone to Retrograde three times for his shift since that day, and he had no luck seeing or hearing anything of Arthur. There were absolutely no signs of him either. There were no stolen butterscotches, the record player hadn't oddly started playing itself at all, and his wallet was always exactly where he had left it. Even so Alfred couldn't help but be hyper aware of anything that occurred in the shop. Even if it was something small like Toris dropping a pen off the counter, the small noise would make Alfred jump out of his skin. And if he just happened to feel something just lightly touch him without fair warning, he would double back at lightning speed. Just being in the shop gave him goosebumps. And he still felt like there was something watching him every time he opened the rickety door to the antique shop. It was unsettling for sure. Though a very small part of him wanted to meet this sharp tongued ghost again. Why? He did not know.

So far, his summer was off on a scary start.

July 10th, 1992

The American teen stood on a rusted ladder, a paint bucket seated at the very top step, the early morning sunshine flickering through the the large buildings that surrounded them. His messy Timberland boots were wet with dew, and in his hand was a paintbrush. He and Toris had set out to spruce up the withering damaged sign that read 'Retrograde' if you squinted enough, perhaps with the new fresh paint it would attract more customers. At least they aimed so, they rarely sold anything in the old antique shop. Alfred cupped his chin with his hand in an observing position as he viewed his artwork, the drippy white paint that he had just slathered the 'R' in. "Yo Tory, does this look good to you? Or have I missed a spot…?" The starry eyed teen pivoted his hips in the direction of the other, wondering where the other had went. The blonde was never one to think about his actions before he performed them, so ignorantly he didn't realize that as he moved so sharply to find his coworker, that the paint that his paintbrush was newly dipped in, had splattered all over the ground below from being flinged off the paintbrush.

Ill fatedly for Toris, he was standing just below the latter, a rag in hand to give the younger, though before he could his face was dosed with a string of white paint that dripped mockingly down his nose. Alfred straightaway burst out laughing at the sight, belly radiating with chuckles as the other made a frustrated noise and looked around fumingly at the mess the American had made. "Alfred! Look what you did!" The brunette groused in a whine, taking a thumb to his cheek to try and swipe away the paint, smearing it while doing so. Said teen only cackled some more before wheezing out, "My bad, my bad!" Toris sighed as he dabbed the rag to one of the paint blots that had landed on his face- looking crestfallen at the streams of white paint that covered the sidewalk before rounding up his shoulders. "I knew you wouldn't be capable of doing this- as simple as it could be." He murmured in repressed anger, though before he could get a reaction Alfred had somehow stumbled in his state of euphoria, shaking the ladder legs doing so._ "GAH-!" _Toris rushed to his aid, compelled to stop the unsound ladder from toppling over, hands shooting to grip the sides of the ladder.

Tensley he looked up to see Alfred gripping the ladder like it was a lifeline, eyes clamped shut as if he were still bracing for impact, paintbrush still in hand. His eyelids then whipped open and he looked around confusedly. "Score! I actually didn't fall!" That was before he spotted the Lithuanian at the bottom steps of the ladder. "Oh- thanks Tor! I could've handled it myself though." Alfred shrugged arrogantly, and calmly made his way down the clinking metal steps. Once again he was sticking to his heroic image. Toris just aimed a passive glance to the other, glad that the blonde didn't end up on the hard concrete below.

"I say we get you cleaned up and have a small water break!" The bomber jacketed young man then announced, leaving his paintbrush on the rusting ladder before leading the shorter male into the store. "I agree, I don't want another incident at the moment. Honestly, I had to fight you on what color the sign should be painted, I knew you were going to treat this as some art project." The Lithuanian said as he was provoked by the excitable blue eyed teen into "Retrograde." "Lay off won't cha? White is such a boring color by itself- why not paint it bunch of fun colors? Maybe a greenish color, I think it would suit the store well." Alfred babbled as usual. "Green? I was expecting something like red and blue from you, as those are your favorite colors." The blonde just yanked his shoulders upwards in reply as a sort of hesitant shrug. "Plus- of course it's an art project! Painting is a form of the arts, right?" He continued quite matter-of-factly. But before Toris could protest as he was wheeled to the backroom of the shop, the cowlick haired boy had produced his water bottle that had been sitting on the checkout counter previously. He snatched the rag that had been in the flustered teen's hand and squirted a good amount of water onto the cloth to wetten it before holding it up to Toris' face. "Close your eyes!" Alfred chimed and Toris obliged silently to let the other dab at the paint that he had acquired from their paint fiasco. After he had diligently and gently removed the substance he called out a, "Done!"

Just as Toris was going to open his eyes and thank him dearly, he heard the other exclaim, "Wait, I missed a spot!" Then a rag had proceeded to be scrubbed all over his face, leaving it a wet mess. "Agh, Alfred!" He complained and swatted him on the shoulder, chuckling as the other backed away and responded with a word of truce. "Sorry, sorry, I just had to!" The American guffawed and clapped the other on the shoulder as he grabbed their water bottles, heading towards the door so they could enjoy their beverages on the curb before getting back to work. Toris was forced to follow along- still laughing, and under Alfred's clumsy lead he found himself knocking into one of the displays, dropping a few antique dolls to the floor. When that happened the sky blue eyed boy's effortless carefree look spilled from his face as if had been false the whole time. And instead a look of immense fear crossed him, eyes darting around accusingly for a nanosecond before zeroing in on Toris.

He looked like he was going to leap into his arms just like Scooby did to Shaggy.

"W-what was that?" Was all the American could stutter. "Um, I just knocked over a few items for sale is all Alfred." The brunette replied hastily and ducked to pick up the two dolls that had been strayed from their original post. "See?" The ivy eyed young man waved one of the unthreatening dolls in front of the others face before placing them both back, confusedly staring in his companion's direction as if he had gone insane. What had he been so scared of all the sudden? Hearing such a small noise shouldn't have set him off in such a way. Toris knew now in the small span of time he had known Alfred that the other was over imaginative and always jumped to conclusions too fast, but this just seemed a bit off to him. A small span of silence wedged between them before Alfred laughed choppily, looking quite relieved at the news. "Oh, _welp_… let's head out then!" Then he wheeled himself not-so-casually back around and headed rather desperately toward the front door. Toris followed without another word, brows furrowing as he tried to process the situation.

When they both made it back outside the Lithuanian waited for the American to hunker down and take a seat on the curb sitting just outside Retrograde before proceeding to do so himself. For a moment he just cracked open the cap of his water and sipped thoughtfully while Alfred guzzled his. The sun sat just above the small town- making the concrete sparkle, warming the summery air. Toris looked ahead to the sky, and then turned to the blonde next to him.

"Say Al… is everything okay? You've been acting a bit odd recently…," the teen pressed his lips together firmly as he paused and tried to read the other's expression for any help.

Though Alfred, usually bubbly, addicted to attention, only looked away from him with a wiped-clean expression. Typically it was so easy to figure out how the other was feeling, thinking, or anything. This was mainly because the blue eyed teen would announce his thoughts and feelings all the time (whether someone wanted to hear them or not), and his face was always full of emotion. Toris couldn't guess why he was being so secretive all the sudden. What was there to hide? The darker haired young man decided to venture on on the topic anyways, finding it important.

"Like… when I gave you your present on Monday while we were here, I remember how you kept looking behind yourself and seemed to cling to my side the entire time…," he looked to Alfred's wrist now, blinking with a small content look.

For the American's nineteenth birthday he had gotten him a friendship bracelet. It had red, white, and blue string that formed a zigzag pattern with a small formed star in the center. Toris had always invested in a matching one for himself, though with yellow, dark green, and red as his color choices. And also, as he knew the blonde would appreciate, he had picked him up his favorite hershey candy bar. Alfred had teased him for being so sentimental with his gift choice but Toris could tell he valued it, as he was wearing it at this very moment. "Plus you haven't been so willing to work single shifts on your own now- and I know how much you love this shop…" Toris sighed after he got no response. "What happened?" The blonde glanced to him now with a lighthearted expression, one so different than his heavy gaze before- water bottle balanced on his thigh, arms locked behind him as he gazed almost apologetically to the other.

"Oh, it's nothing! I've just been watching a few too many horror movies lately, it's getting me paranoid everywhere I go." Alfred chuckled airily before taking a lazy sip at his Poland Spring bottle. "Horror movies? I thought you hated those! I always knew that you were a movie nut- due to how much you don't shut up about them, but I thought scary movies were something you avoided." Toris shuffled his feet with a quick laugh, glad that the cause for the other's odd behavior was not anything serious. He should have known so. "Well yes I'm terrified of them, but it gives me a rush like no other dude!" Alfred seemed to be more eased with his understanding, arms flying upwards as if he were on a rollercoaster and belting out a whoop that startled a few grackles whom sat on a powerline further down the street. Toris laughed quietly some more and '_shhed_' the other calmly. "Well if that's the case then I am thankful. I was worried there for a while." Alfred just waved him off with a, "You worry too much!"

Toris smiled warmly, until it faded away with and replaced with a more concerned look. Toris set his water bottle on the ground next to him and clasped his hands in his lap tightly. His glazed eyes stared at them with a serious gaze. He could feel the other's eyes on him.

"Just remember that if anything happens… you could always tell me. We're friends right? Friends always tell each other anything, and I wish to be that kind of friend to you Alfred."

The brunette shyly muttered. As he looked up he saw a more sincere, bright look on Alfred's face. "Of course we're friends Tory, we even have bracelets! And I will remember that always, and I will be that same friend to you." His hand suited with it's previously mentioned red, white, and blue clad bracelet was lifted in a fist, as if offering a fist bump to the other. Toris met him halfway with his own yellow, green, and red braceleted hand, nodding reservedly. They were both quiet for a moment as they settled back in their former seatings, watching the clouds scroll throughout the blue skies. After a while Alfred piped up with a barely spoken sentence.

"Can I ask you something?"

Toris snapped out of his daze and looked to the other, who for once in his life seemed a bit stalled to say something. This wasn't like Alfred, he had no filter between his mind and his mouth. He said whatever he wanted, and never thought about anything before doing so.

"Alfred we just went through this."

"You said I could _tell_ you anything. Not _ask_ you anything."

"Just forget it, what is the matter?"

The Lithuanian looked to the other with a troubled air. Alfred only drawled out an exhale, looking left and then right as if he was deciding on whether or not he should ask him anything after all. But then Alfred looked ahead courageously, listening to the small chirping of birds before he spoke his desirable question.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

Toris blanked at the strange question, wondering what kinds of quirky horror movies the other had been watching to make him ask such things at a time like this.

"Ghosts?"

Alfred only nodded childishly, averting his ocean blue eyes. "Hm… well I guess I do, but I'm really not so sure." Toris then replied and gulped down another swallow of water. "Have you ever seen one?" The leafy green eyed young man looked to the bomber jacketed one next to him whom looked on imploringly, almost timidly to him. "That's exactly the problem. I'm not really sure I believe in ghosts, or spirits, or anything of the like because I have no proof they exist. So no I haven't." The brunette questioned to himself as to why this question had even occurred to the innocent blonde. And why his answer seemed so important to the other. "Are you sure? Like really, really sure? Like… have you ever heard anything odd, or seen something unexplainable? You've never experienced anything of the paranormal?" Toris nodded his head for each question thrown his way, and Alfred only stared at the ground through the space between his legs as he sat. "Why are you asking me about this?" "O-oh… it's really nothing. Just curious." Alfred's eyes swam with a certain deepness, an untouchable kind of deepness and mystery that Toris had never seen before.

Now the sign was painted a fresh coat of white and green, just like Alfred had wanted, and twilight had reached it's peak. A burgundy red was smeared across the horizon- dauntingly. Alfred peered upwards at the sign with Toris not too far behind appreciatively at their work. The white letters contrasted against the inevitable darkness approaching, and some of the letters interchanged a gorgeous dark green, framed with a black background. "I think it looks great." The Lithuanian hummed, digging his hands into the navy blue sweatshirt he wore. "Hell yeah it does!" Alfred commented with a caw of a laugh.

"Hey Al, can you close up for tonight? I've gotta get back home, my parents expect me for dinner." The bomber jacketed blonde froze at the question. He'd have to be alone. In "Retrograde". All by _himself_. _'It's no big deal, you've gone in before since what happened and nothing ever occurred. It'll only be a short while too, nothing to be afraid of.' _Alfred chanted in his mind and swallowed his fear. He then looked to Toris with a grin and shining eyes. "'Kay. But you'll owe me for next time!" Alfred really wished he could tell someone about what he had saw. What he had _experienced._ He wanted some kind of support- it wasn't everyday that something like this happens, so there weren't many people he could turn to. But he knew he had to suck it up and play it off like nothing happened for everyone's sake. Alfred knew Toris was willing to help him with anything- but the blonde wasn't sure he would ever believe him, or understand. From the information he had collected today, he learned that Toris must have never seen or heard any signs from Arthur at all. Why did the ghost only appear to him? Had the ghost communicated with anyone else in the past? Alfred never felt so alone. He couldn't tell his cousin- Matthew- even though they were basically treated as brothers since birth, he wouldn't take him so seriously. And his parents wouldn't too. Who could he go to? The only option he had was Arthur. Arthur Kirkland.

The name still wouldn't unstick itself from his mind.

Toris had moved to retrieve his bike, in which had been propped up against the side of the store. The frame was a muted blue. The dark haired brunette scratched a hand along the side of his head, looking to the other caringly. "Do you think you'll be alright?" Alfred's starry gave never faded as he replied. "Yup! Don't worry- I've got things covered here!" With that the green eyed teen carefully slung his leg over the seat of his bike and flicked his thumb towards his bike bell, producing a _ding, ding_ sound as he began to pedal. "Alright then, I'm gone! See you over the weekend Alfred!" The blonde waved broadly and shouted a goodbye. "C'ya later Tor Tor!" The other's bike tread hit the concrete flatly after rolling over the curb, and down the street until he turned around the corner of Littlegate street. Alfred's enthusiasm went out like a snuffled candle as he looked towards the front door of the antique store, collecting the cans of paint loosely, knuckles white as he gripped the flimsy handles.

This reminded him all too well of the night he had first stumbled on this run down shop. Fretfully he halted at the front door, looking at the chipped pieces carved into it, and dinges that had collected along it over time. He braced himself as he gripped the handle, expecting it to turn all by itself or do some other creepy thing- but it didn't. Alfred left one eye cracked open and the other shut tightly- as if he were expecting something to jump out at him like a jack in the box as he swung open the door. Nothing did. Nope, everything was where it needed to be. Before he stepped in the American took a once over the area, and even double checked before strolling, quite apprehensively into the shop. He unevenly whistled a short ditty to try and coax his jumbled nerves away. So far everything was going smoothly. Alfred swiftly moved to the back of the shop, settling the paint buckets by the counter before picking up the keys Toris had left conveniently on the checkout counter. He made a quick bolt towards the door to lock up shop, heart jabbing in his ribcage as if telling him _'it's almost over- just get to the door and you'll make it into the clear!'_

Though in his distracted state the blonde did not notice a fairly obvious object set in the middle of the aisle he was speeding down. To his dismay he found himself stepping on this object, causing him to slip backwards as it slid across the floor along with his foot. His out of tune whistle cut short, as this turn of events made him lose balance and fall straight on his back with an _'oof!'_ of utter surprise. The heroic teen just laid there in a daze, a radiating pain forming at the back of his head.

And again he felt the air temperature around him drop in degrees, as the fear he had kept hidden away broke free and crept into his face in a grimace.

He knew something felt off- there was something there with him.

An unfamiliar crackling laugh sounded ridiculously close to his face and Alfred knew what was coming.

He knew he had to get back up. He had to open his eyes and get back into the fight. All heroes did. The cowlick haired teen never opened his eyes so fast in his life. And just as he predicted, a pair of malicious clover green eyes stared down at him expectantly. Arthur's expression went from amused to cruel the moment the American opened his eyes. "You aren't going to lay there all night are you? Get up git." Alfred's mouth gaped open as random vowels spilled out in a panicked high pitched tone as he gazed up in awe at the ghost. He felt like he had been hit with a derailed train. But he didn't need to be reminded. The blonde seemed to almost crab walk backwards before shakily finding his feet, stumbling a few times in the process.

"You're speaking barmy, put a sock in it would you?" Arthur appeared exactly the same way he had the night he had first saw him, black bowtie tied around his neck and with his old olive green jacket. His British accent was also exactly the same as well, Alfred remembered well. That night was forever burned into the blue eyed young man's mind, and he was sure this one would be too. "B-barmy? What's that?" Those words were the only ones he could form. Arthur was already glaring at him with a sharp gaze- knife sharp- arms folded across his chest, looking at him with an annoyed expression, though at his blatant comment an even deeper from tugged at his mouth. His thick eyebrows seemed to permanently dip downwards in a frustrated way whenever he glanced at him. "Bloody daft idiot." The green eyed ghost pronounced in a growl under his breath and shook his head disapprovingly.

Alfred didn't hear the other's repressed insult, and looked to the object that had caused his downfall, as it lay right by the blonde ghost's feet. A small metallic toy wind-up robot. Alfred knew this was all Arthur's doing. The toys were kept on the other side of the shop. And it certainly wasn't there before. The blonde rubbed the back of head with a low groan and looked to the latter. "Why'd you make me fall like that man? That hurt!" The loud bomber jacketed man whined, puffing out his cheeks angrily as he waited for the pain to ebb away. "I know it did, and I just felt like it." Arthur admitted slyly in a quiet tone as he picked up the wind up robot and examined it, making the arm move with his attentive fingers. The starry eyed American faltered in distress, his fall and pure shock hindering his processment of the situation. Instead he opted to just observe the ghost for a moment. He had seen this ghost for the _second_ time. He couldn't believe he wasn't dreaming, or having a very vivid nightmare. The world seemed to slow as he gazed to this slightly white aglow stranger.

"Why do you appear to me alone?"

The blonde asked with a clueless pout, rubbing the forearms of his brown bomber jacket as more goosebumps crawled down his skin.

That feeling was coming to him again as it always seemed to when Arthur appeared, a breathtaking, adrenaline triggering, _rush_.

"I mean… Toris, my friend who also works here, told me that he wasn't even sure he believed in ghosts. That means he's never seen or heard of you. You haven't shown yourself to him- or anyone else that I know of. So why me?" Alfred looked to the other when he didn't receive a reply and cocked his head. "_Arthur_?" It sounded strangely fitting the way he said it, like he was meant to. The ghost's bright green eyes glistened as they looked to the nineteen year old, hands unfolding themselves from his chest as he looked to the other with a hard expression. "I don't know." He answered. "That's really what I've been wondering. That night all I remember is standing next to that bookshelf over there and you, terrifiedly, looking right in my direction before screaming your damn head off." The brit murmured slowly, blinking up to Alfred as if he wasn't sure he was listening, before letting his inscrutable eyes shift to the floor. His ivy green eyes appeared detached. "I have tried many, many times in the past to try and breach this wall between life and death. The living- and the dead. I've never had any results, not once. Your friend- he cannot notice me- not anyone." Arthur exhaled a nonexistent breath and then proceeded to match Alfred's wonder-filled gaze with his own steely, worn eyes. "You are the first human I've been able to make contact with. In the seventy years I've been here like this- just a memory, a phantom of a person, you are the first, Jones." The blue eyed teen blinked his naive round eyes. _He_ was the first human that had ever seen Arthur. The thought alone made him feel peculiarly special.

"You haven't been able to talk to _anyone_ for seventy years? That's like a whole lifetime!" The cowlick haired young man announced with a baffled glance to the bow tied man in front of him. "What did I just _say_? No- no I haven't." Alfred watched as the other's face fell as he said the words, irritated frown carved into his face like a frightening jackolantern. He felt sympathy blossom in his heart, he could feel the lonesomeness of the other, the sadness. To try and cheer the short tempered brit, Alfred let a small smile grace his tanned features as he stepped forwards.

"Well- I guess this means you're gonna be my new bestest friend! My _ghost_ best friend! Wouldn't that be _so, so, so_ cool?" The blonde enthused happily, spectacle framed eyes illuminating at his own idea. He unthinkingly moved to grab the other's hand in his excitement, in the process wondering if he could actually feel the brit's physical presence, as if he were human too. A small connection formed in his mind about how in cartoons when someone were to touch a ghost- their hand would go right through them. Would that apply to Arthur too? But the snappy green eyed brit just swiped his arm away coldly before he could test his hypothesis.

"Don't touch me, prick!"

"Okay, okay, I was just curious!" Arthur glared heatedly at him to emphasize his displeasure with his pasture green eyes after his hostile retort before finishing.

"And no, it doesn't. I don't want to be friends with a stupid idiot American like you. I'm fine the way I am, in solitude, I've accepted it, I have for a long time." Alfred's stoked expression plummeted at the other's words- though his stubborn determination regarding his new goal never delayed.

"_Aww_, why not Arthur!"

"I have a whole list of reasons, and I'd rather not discuss your ridiculous flaws with you at the moment, as it is getting quite late."

"Whatever! I'm gonna be your best friend forever anyway!" Alfred chimed in with his obnoxiously deafening speech, and then proceeded to stumble around clumsily as he searched for his lost key. He tried to ask Arthur to help him find them (since it was _his_ fault in the first place the blonde would argue) but that didn't get anywhere much. The green eyed ghost just grumbled a rather nasty curse in response to his inconsiderate outburst and watched him with judging, all knowing eyes. Eventually Alfred had found them, and smiled sunnily as he lead them both to the old door to the antique shop.

"And for your information- I wasn't _terrified _that night we first met. You startled me is all." Alfred said then to justify his embarrassing reaction Arthur had commented on earlier, that of that night they had first met.

"Keep telling that to yourself Jones."

"I'm serious!"

"You're never serious."

The American let a laugh bubble from his lips, twirling the key ring around his index finger as they walked alongside each other, bright smile awakening as he glanced back to the tweed suited young man.

"You surprisingly already know me well, Mr. Kirkland."

As they made it to the door the American's eyes met the serious faced spirit's eyes, starry blue eyes shining merrily as they both stood on the dingy "Welcome" mat that was missing a few letters. "See you Arthur, hold up shop till I get back?" The ghost nodded shortly, frowning softly. "Goodbye, Alfred." He said plainly as he looked away with disinterest, although Alfred could tell there was wistful look about his eyes. But still of course as the bomber jacketed young man turned around the shorter blonde bore daggers into the back of his head. Alfred's fingers wrapped around the door handle as they said their goodbyes, mind a flurry and a bit fuzzy at what had just all occurred. A nightly breeze tempted his skin as the door opened, sending even more chills down his spine. He waved as he shut the battered door, watching Arthur scowl at him through the crack until the door had shut completely, darkness falling into the shop once again. The blonde jabbed the key into the lock and turned with a splitting grin, making sure it was secure before removing the key and heading down Littlegate Street once again.

A waning moon glared in the sky, prickling stars around it. For some reason now he seemed to feel a bit less afraid of Arthur than he had been before. Alfred was starting to think he was a good ghost after all. Even though he did look like he wanted to murder him half the time, the optimistic teen was sure he could somewhat trust the other, even a little bit. He had no business of fearing the other, as Arthur never meant to hurt him or cause mishap for him in any way. Well- perhaps he did, because he made him trip over a toy robot and bang his head, and he also loved to make him wet his pants in the worst of ways, but that was beside the point. The blonde gazed to the night sky longingly, hands digging into the pockets of his bomber jacket as the sweet crescent moon above entranced him. He knew he would have to learn more about this puzzling ghost. He had so many questions. What did he mean by seventy years, had Arthur died seventy years ago? Alfred frowned deeply at the question. And there were many others, some he wasn't even sure he should ever ask the grumpy individual. He wanted to know it all.

He wanted to know Arthur's story- and everything in between.

The American boy was sure they were going to make great friends, he and Arthur.

* * *

**Finally I got a chapter up, school and testing has been horrible ;owo;. Only a few more full school days to go until summer! **

**But then I have regents and finals ;-w-;.**

**It is super duper late right now so I apologize if this seems choppy or rushed XD.**


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